[Minor spoiler alert: my story begins in chapter 7 of the game, and some elements of this chapter are mentioned/used. I call these minor spoilers because they aren't shocking or that important, still, YMMV.]

Lightning paced back and forth, her mind drained of ideas. Her footsteps echoed in the vacant Palumpolum building. Several feet away, Fang leaned against a wall, the tapping of her spear accompanied to the clack of her metal-soled boots and the incessant buzz of gunfire.

She sighed, holding back the urge to punch a nearby pillar in desperation. Their only means of communication was gone, they had been fighting for hours without any idea how to reach their final destination, and it wouldn't be long before PSICOM's reinforcements arrived and they'd be outnumbered. They had stopped in the empty structure for a temporary respite from the constant battles.

Their best and only plan was to press onward and continue forging a path for themselves, taking down any and all soldiers and machines in their way. But secretly they both knew that they couldn't go on at this rate much longer.

Lightning glanced at the sky. The sun was setting behind the buildings of the once great city. Now it was swallowed by fear, teetering on the edge of war.

"It's late," she stated, still pacing. Fang looked up. "We should-"

A ghastly shriek interrupted her. Instinctively, she tensed. Experience told her the sound emanated from one of the giant bird like creatures they had encountered several times.

Another sound, like stone hitting stone, seemed to come from the same direction. Fang stood up, gripping her weapon.

"Reckon we outta check it out?" Lightning nodded.

They walked carefully up the stairs that would lead them to the flying beast. Lightning rested her hand tentatively on the hilt of her gunblade. They were about halfway up the flight when they heard a prepubescent cry that Lightning recognized almost immediately.

"Hope!" she screamed, breaking into a sprint. During their time in the Vile Peaks, she had grown accustomed to protecting her more vulnerable companion; the motherly instinct she had fostered hadn't quite worn off yet.

When she reached the balcony, she discovered that she had been correct in her assumptions: hope was fending off the giant winged creature. It hovered in front of him, slowly pumping its wings. But where was Snow? She quickly glanced around until she found him slouched against a pillar. She understood in horror that it was his body she had heard hitting the wall.

Is he dead? The thought darted through her mind. But she didn't have any time to think; Fang had caught up to her and now the three of them were preparing to engage in battle.

Dazed from the blow and the injuries he accumulated earlier, Snow drifted in and out of consciousness. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head was spinning, and his chest throbbed in dull pain, yet he strained to open his eyes. I have to help Hope, he thought. The kid can't handle that thing on his own. When he did open his eyes, he was shocked to see Fang and Lightning had returned. But it was the latter that held his attention.

There had been times on The Lindblum that he had wondered if he would ever see his four companions again, especially Lightning. He had stronger feelings for her, because she was family. He couldn't deny that she was interesting to be around. Even when she was punching him in the face, she could always evoke some emotion from him. Or pain.

But now he saw her a little differently. Maybe he had formed a concussion, but she looked different. Maybe he had just never noticed, but she actually pretty attractive, like her sister. Maybe even more than her sister. Maybe it was her pale skin and lean, tone body coupled with her quiet confidence indicated both delicacy and deadliness.

And her agility. Fighting alongside her, he had never noticed the catlike grace of her fighting style. Her calculated movements flowed together, alternating between slicing and shooting. Her red cape flashed in and out of his view, struggling to keep up with her acrobatic flips and jumps. His attacks were nothing compared to the speed at which she executed her punches and dodges. He was amazed that anyone could fight so expertly, so perfectly. He was so captivated by her fighting that he didn't realize the beast was dead until he she put her gunblade away.

The three of them began to walk toward him but he fought to remain conscious. The pain in his chest was more than a nagging now; it stabbed him constantly. His eyes closed repeatedly against his will and his vision grew unfocused. He saw Lightning's brown leather boots grow closer.

Snow. Her voice was far away, like he was underwater. Maybe he imagined it, just like he probably imagined her hand on his shoulder, and her periwinkle eyes searching his body for signs of awareness. He attempted a smile before he slipped into unconsciousness.

I hope she noticed.